"That's what I call fine," declared the youth. "By Jove! and I'm so fond of cake!"
"Have a care!" breathed Larry, rising nervously, but Speed paid no attention.
"Break it with your own hands, please. Besides, it's too hot to cut."
Miss Blake broke it with her own hands, during which operation the brown face of the man outside reappeared in the window. At sight of the cake he spoke sharply, and Lawrence lumbered swiftly across the floor and laid a heavy hand upon the cake.
"Mr. Speed!" he cried warningly.
"Here, take your foot off my angel-food!" fiercely ordered the youth. But the other was like adamant.
"Bo, you are about to contest for the honor of this ranch! That cake will make a bum of you!"
"Oh—h!" gasped the author of the delicacy. "Stop before it is too late!" Glass held his hungry employer at a distance, striving to make known by a wink the necessity of his act.
"There is absolutely nothing in my cake to injure any one," Helen objected loyally, with lifted chin; whereupon the corpulent trainer turned to her and said:
"Cake would crab any athlete. Cake and gals is the limit."